


Heart Blossom

by lilacaisle



Series: My heart is a boat sinking in your oceans [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Blood Drinking, Boys In Love, Bruce is a loyal boyfriend, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Fluff, Heartbeats, Jeremiah can be sentimental too, Kissing, M/M, Making Love, Plot Twists, Possible Soulmates, Rough to soft, Vampire Bites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 04:18:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18683998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacaisle/pseuds/lilacaisle
Summary: “How unfair would it be, if you were to sell your soul to the devil for me, and I wouldn’t even shed a drop of my blood for you?”





	Heart Blossom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jennyfer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennyfer/gifts).



> I'm dedicating this work to one of the best vampire Jeremiah portrayers - Jennyfer. Hopefully you find beauty in this.

The murky dim lighting of the crescent moon does a terrible job at illuminating the brilliant face features of Bruce’s lover. Ablaze and doused in the tacit beauty of Jeremiah’s beaming smile, Bruce clenches his luxurious sheets in firm fists as if holding on the the last coils of humanity and self-containment. The level of his ocean waters rise to the dark night skies, where a moan or other pleasurable note of human arousal would bubble up his throat and peal with the force of thunder. Jeremiah’s lips seem to travel miles down his body, while wily fingers circle the satin night robe’s belt, playing with it and tugging softly in anticipation to unveil the beauty hidden below.  
  
The chirping of crickets sync with Jeremiah’s gentle kisses to a harmonising ballad. He halts somewhere at the thigh, caressing Bruce’s skin in a loving manner with the hand that is not busy with his gown.  
  
“You are tensed,” Jeremiah notes nimbly. “Are you scrupling?” The placid silky voice chants. It couldn’t have been anything else than a rhetorical question. The note it sang was too knowing, perhaps even mocking the boy for his shyness and lack of participation. Jeremiah’s presence has dawned in Bruce’s mind even before occupying his heart, analysing the meanders of his unshielded brain like a drone, probing for yet unknown for Bruce emotions. What was it he was desiring to divulge? Lust? Admiration? Fear? Or perhaps the magnificent combination of it all that Bruce now was - a mess of fervors. The beast relished in the human’s ardor, glamorising the terror and dread he has laid upon the feeble being. Yet, what else was it, if not Jeremiah’s nature forcing such actions on a likely chaste clean soul. Bruce trusted it to come to the surface at any given moment and relied on his intuition for just another moment. But at the very last, it could cost the boy his life.  
  
Bruce pauses before answering in a tranquil luscious voice, “I’m coaxing myself into confiding in you, Jeremiah.”  
  
Altering his gaze into a mushy tender one, Jeremiah enshrouds the lean body with his, rising above with his left hand supporting his weight, the right fondling Bruce’s petite jawbone gently.  
  
Jeremiah simpers warmly as if to soothe Bruce’s unease and purrs, “I’m not hurting you, am I Bruce?”  
  
The electrifying touch melts Bruce’s iceberg heart into a light liquid substance. It submits to every beckon of this demon, that captivating timbre luring him into an innocent state of pure submission. It will be his demise, he knows. That he is reminded of every time two pearl inhuman sharp canines peek from below the thin scarlet lips. Eventually, they will relieve the itching yearning in Bruce’s skin, landing into his veins with a destructive force.  
  
Gulping, Bruce’s glance disappears into a dark oblivion as he shuts his eyes closed, “No.”  
  
The barely audible response draws out an unsatisfied sound from the vampire. A hiss or a hoot of an owl. Displeased, Jeremiah lifts the captured chin just enough to take a secret glare at the silver lining of Bruce’s throat. A dainty elegant and irresistibly appealing crook of the human neck, containing quite a few juicy veins for Jeremiah to savour the sweetness of his claret nectar.  
  
The vampire graciously moves closer to the human, lowering his abdomen to the point of eroticism vibrating within the both’s chests. Bruce’s heart is raving and rampaging persuasively against his own, Jeremiah lays his kiss down where the muscle pumps the blood so agilely, thudding beautiful dramatic serenades for his ears only.  
  
“I’ve put my heart into giving you comfort and the softest touch my hands can possess. And yours threatens me to stop. Bruce, I find that very callous.” Jeremiah carps sneeringly and in a swift motion removes the useless obstacle of fabric that was keeping him away from direct contact with the peachy glossy skin.  
  
Bruce suppresses a faint whimper deep down in his throat, pacifying Jeremiah’s growing expectations. Sudden vulnerability disturbs his already bewildered mind and nearly causes a tsunami in his flooded waters of emotions, now sending tidal waves of flurry up and down his body causing it to be painted a subtle shade of flaming. Surely the monster will luxuriate in the luscious deluge of sentiments the boy emanates and eat him up alive.  
  
“Ahh, there you are, moon boy.” Jeremiah hums gleefully. He lays his palm flat on the exposed chest, feeling the irregular brisk rhythm fluttering beneath the chest bone. How much that frail puny human heart can take is worth admiration. Toting all the burden of this unfair world yet never failing to beat again. Jeremiah’s own is languishing slowly, no longer capable of maintaining the vital beauty of a vivid angel like Bruce. His Bruce.  
  
Jeremiah’s moue softens and converts into a delightful heavenly grin. Evil motives he aimed mere moments ago vanish together with the frightened human heartbeat now fading into a serene lullaby. He resumes his gaze on the boy’s now blinking wide eyes and asks himself; how could he ever harm this neat feeble soul? Flaccid and fragile like a rose petal, shimmering bright like the sun itself.  
  
Jeremiah springs his head to the side in embarrassment, now cancelling all the plans and quashing the cocktail of sentiments rising in the depths of his soul.  
  
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m starved and this hunger is causing me to act in all ways of inappropriate. Redo your robe, Bruce.” Jeremiah commands coldly and detaches himself from the half naked body just to curl up into a ball by Bruce’s side.  
  
Bruce himself, however, halts his breathing and freezes in place in disbelief. _There you are, tartan suit boy_. No wonder Jeremiah always pampers and compliments Bruce’s heart so so flatteringly. Was it just its unusual rapid rhythm that softened the monster’s intentions? Within the mask of a pale beast, just as Bruce recalls, is his Jeremiah.  
  
Bruce regains his breath slowly, taking his time before covering his body with the black sating back again. The velvet he’s been clenching seconds back now falls free of his hold, all wrinkled and sweaty from the human’s palms. Bruce feels his lips slowly forming into a delighted smile. Was it now him who’s task is to comfort the lamenting lover? _Oh, Jeremiah. You beast, you can’t be cruel to me._  
  
“I wasn’t scared, Jeremiah.” Bruce’s body shifts quickly to face the concerned vampire, glaring deep into his soul with fading enthusiasm. That’s how they are, after all, a storm that comes and goes.  
  
Jeremiah pouts in annoyance, sensing dishonesty, “I saw how you looked at me, Bruce. Pure terror. Do you know what your soul said to me without words? It promised me a tragic ending. Yes. It told me to let you go. God, I love you too much. My moon and stars. How could I ever even anticipate such things. Forgive me.” Jeremiah’s words slowly fall into an inaudible whisper. It can’t be so, that he’ll weep in Bruce’s arms for what cannot be undone. His love. Persistent and eternal in his petrified vampire heart. One after another, Jeremiah’s weave around his lovers thin neck, careful not to harm the fragility of this clean boy. And now the realisation of the terrifying truth dawns to him. Those hands will witness Bruce’s unfortunate demise one day. Perhaps carry his flabby motionless body, with his head resting against the chest destined to rest for aeon. And what for, all this agony?  
  
“My soul must be confused then.” Bruce returns the gesture and slides his hands smoothly into Jeremiah’s jet black hair, massaging the skin in mesmerising motions of a mother, “Jeremiah, is there something on earth you wouldn’t do for me?”  
  
Jeremiah’s head arises from its tranquil position as if awaken from a nightmare. What kind of question is this? Is Bruce now making Jeremiah repay his sins? He frowns and begins shaking his head excessively.  
  
“No, of course not. How could you ever doubt my love?” He argues.  
  
“And how could you doubt mine?” Bruce shoots back just as quick, sending Jeremiah speechless. One or two uncomfortable eternities pass before Bruce takes a deep agitated breath. Those waters are beginning to waver once again, and the moon in the hazy night sky reveals itself from the plushy layer of clouds. Together with that, in a fluid motion Bruce exposes what his dearest vampire only gets to explore in his wildest fantasies. His delicate neck. Bon appetite, Jeremiah.  
  
“How unfair would it be, if you were to sell your soul to the devil for me, and I wouldn’t even shed a drop of my blood for you?” Bruce intimates erotically.  
  
Jeremiah’s senses are ablaze. Sweetness of heavens does he want to allay the fever torturing his flames. He glances at the jugular pulsating so alluringly just bellow his eyes. Succulent and syrupy, chanting to the vampire seductively. This divinity, it’s perfect. Sublime. Paradisiac.  
  
Jeremiah must admit that any amount of effort wouldn’t keep him away now. That throat… Mmm, so open and wide, all his to consume. Hypnotised and sunken in the bloom of Bruce’s beauty, Jeremiah slowly leans in. He’ll make Bruce’s skin floret in crimson roses, paint the human skin canvas a cardinal red.  
  
And… the roses bloom. Jeremiah’s thorns spike the tender flesh with an ease. A painful “ah!” is heard coming out from Bruce’s parted lips, later accompanied by subtle, distorted by the foreign presence of teeth in his throat moans. The vampire is thriving amongst the deluxe saint clouds of the paradise, where the thumping of Bruce’s strong heart is a substitute for the music of the angels’ harps. Ba-boom, ba-boom repeatedly again and again the pulse hits against the vampire’s teeth as he sucks the living life from the boy. Oh dear, how badly he is punishing that beautiful heart. Taking away all it has - that carmine water that keeps his one and only human boy alive. One and only exquisite Bruce. So good, so marvellous, admirable and pure.  
  
“Heart to heart.” One of them said.  


**Author's Note:**

> What can I say, they are in love. Leave feedback, it's as appreciable as always and perhaps I will continue this series! Thank you for reading.


End file.
